Not a Metaphor
by hyenateeth
Summary: To an outsider it might have sounded romantic. Perhaps it was romantic. China/Russia, Kink Meme de-anon, warnings inside.


Woah hey I'm uploading a fanfiction?

Contains: China/Russia, non-penetrative smut, aaand Russia's heart as an erogenous zone. (Heart-play?) and extreme artistic liberty involving the biology of nations.

Written over a year ago for a kink meme fill (Anyone/Russia - his erogenous zone is his heart), just now de-anoning. Not beta'd but edited. Also available on my LJ under the same screen name.

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**Not a Metaphor**

It was almost cute, in a sick way. And China always loved cute things. It was a cute color, and when he held it in his hands he could feel it pulsing, and if he held it lightly enough it would tickle him as it pulsed.

As if to demonstrate this China let his hold on the organ slack, smiling to himself at the delicate pulsing.

"Chinaaaa..." He heard the groan, and China looked over, smiling at the sight that met his eyes. Russia was on the bed next to him, curled up, legs pressing together, still fully clothed but giving the older nation a pleading look that was obviously sexual.

"You look cute like that," said China, giving the heart a gentle stroke, pleased by the noise the nation next him made. "You look so vulnerable, it's cute."

It wasn't often China got to see his intimidating neighbor look quite so defenseless. It reminded him of when the boy had been small, a little snowy-haired boy that looked so sweet wrapped in an oversized scarf. Aah, where had the time gone?

He had drifted off in these thoughts, absently stroking the heart in his hands. "China!" interrupted Russia. "China... Please stop teasing..."

China glanced back at Russia. "Aaah, but you are so sweet to tease. You are so scary normally, but not like this..." He squeezed the heart, relishing in the gasp.

He would admit that it was a power rush, to literally be holding someone's heart. It was intimate in a way he had never felt in all his years, and he felt so strong, being able to reduce such a large, powerful nation to this state.

He remembered how he had discovered Russia's secret when, during a meeting between them, the organ had fallen out of Russia's chest right in front of China. Initially the Asian nation had been appropriately disgusted, but he was trying to get along with his neighbor, so he had picked up the heart.

"Y-You dropped this," he had said, not knowing what else to say, not looking at Russia but instead at his heart. It was luckily bloodless, but it still pumped, and China couldn't help but feel curiosity peak though his disgust. So before he could hand Russia the organ he carefully squeezed it with one hand, tracing its shape with the other.

He had been understandably shocked when Russia had gasped and almost doubled over. But it didn't seem to _hurt_ Russia and it made adrenaline rush through his veins, so he had done it again, and Russia had tried to explain, but the way his voice cracked just encouraged China.

Forcing himself back to the present he squeezed the heart again, a little harder this time. "Besides," he continued. "You like the teasing, I know it. You wouldn't let me do this if you didn't."

It was true. They both know that despite the power this gave China, Russia was still not weak enough, nor was China sadistic enough, for this to happen against Russia's will.

No, they both knew Russia liked feeling powerless, just like China liked feeling powerful, even if his outer demeanor did not show it. But Russia had been in control for so long, and China bossed around, the reversal felt good.

And best of all they both knew that it was only China who could do this, the only one who could be trusted enough to hold the Russian's heart.

He had started massaging the organ now, and Russia had rolled from his side to his back, and was arching his back temptingly, erection obviously straining in his trousers.

China couldn't help but chuckle, before he crawled on top of the larger nation, straddling him seductively before leaning down so his body was pressed against the others, only vaguely aware of his own erection pressing against the nation's stomach.

He continued holding the heart, but stopped stroking, amused by the needy noise the boy (No, China reminded himself. Not boy, man. Russia was grown now, and even though he was young compared to China he was not by any stretch a child) made. China leaned in, their noses touching.

"Tell me what you want," commanded China, fleetingly remembering the days when his people had treated him like a deity, one to be revered and obeyed, before he had ever been subjugated by anyone.

And to his delight Russia played along, sticking his lip out in a pout, and really it was ridiculous how cute such a large and scary nation could look. "Please China," he moaned. "I want you. I want you to touch my heart."

To an outsider it might have sounded romantic. Perhaps it was romantic. Neither was an expert on romance.

Satisfied by the obedience, China sat back up, squeezing the heart, making sure Russia was looking at him.

Then he licked it.

Russia practically writhed underneath him, throwing his head back, violet eyes clenching shut.

Smirking, China pulled the heart away. "Now now,' he scolded, almost parentally. "Don't do that. Look at me."

Russia whined, but obeyed, forcing his head back up, locking eyes with China. China nodded lightly in approval, licking the heart again as a reward, relishing the moan he received for his action.

It was a fascinating taste, the taste of his heart. Not quite the bitter metallic flavor of blood, which was a taste China could not stand after too many wars, too many deaths, too much pain. No, it was not quite that, but it was nothing else he could place, not quite salty or sweet. He was pretty sure he liked it though.

"Chinaaaaa," moaned Russia at the repeated licks, moist and hot, making the nation tingle all over and overheat, mind clouding with arousal.

This was always both their favorite part, right before finish. The heart in China's hands fluttered faster, pulsing quickly against his tongue. Their eyes stayed locked until the final moment, lust coursing through both their bodies until Russia reached his peak, signaling it with a moan that was almost a shout, unable to keep his eyes open anymore, the heart in China's hands beating at its fastest, erratically pumping as the Asian nation continued licking all through the orgasm.

He didn't stop until he felt the pulsing slow, until it was back to a normal pace, fluttering lazily in his hands.

There were a few moments of heated silence, and only now was China fully aware of his own arousal, but he still refused to acknowledge it, instead crawling off of Russia, setting the organ down next to his partner.

He pulled himself to the edge of the bed, facing away from Russia, realizing with some embarrassment that he had actually been sweating during the act, whether from Russia's body heat or his own arousal he was not sure.

He heard Russia moving behind him on the bed, doubtlessly picking up his heart and placing it back in his chest. Not really wanting to look back, China wiped his forehead, getting ready to leave, ignore his hardness for long enough to get home and to the privacy of his own room.

But then he felt arms wrap around his shoulders.

"Thank you my comrade," purred Russia, pressing his face into the crook of the smaller nation's neck. "I greatly enjoyed that."

"Hmm," muttered China, willing himself not to blush. "I'm glad."

"And..." The larger nation continued, letting a hand travel down China's chest and to the top of his pants, tracing the hem of the pants teasingly. "I wish to thank China properly."

China did not blush, and he definitely did not shudder in pleasure. "Do you now?"

"I do. After all, China is the one that holds my heart."

It was a sort of cute thing to say, so China didn't mind when their lips met in a kiss.


End file.
